


The Fluffy Tail

by CarmillaCarmine



Series: The Johnlock Utopia (Holidays and Celebrations) Series [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Bottom John Watson, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Easter, Everyone gets something from this sexcapade, M/M, Maybe some suit kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, RimLock, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, Smut, Suspension, Top John Watson, Top Sherlock, my new favourite tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmillaCarmine/pseuds/CarmillaCarmine
Summary: Sherlock is not keen on celebrations, unless they involve just him and John in the bedroom. He has an idea for Easter and when his plan fails, John's ingenuity saves the day.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaKoda0518](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaKoda0518/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to my friend [LaKoda0518](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaKoda0518/pseuds/LaKoda0518)  
> (It's belated but I've been forgiven.) Specially for her, there is lots of smut, butt-play (duh!) and some silliness and fluff. 
> 
> (I'm sorry the chapters are so short but I'm still in the process of editing them. The fic will be 6K long)
> 
> If you're reading this as a standalone: John and Sherlock have been engaged since Christmas. The AU this series takes place is a happy one (no fall, no angst etc).

 

 

Sherlock’s legs were wrapped around John’s waist and he held onto the kitchen countertop to prevent his arse from sliding off it as his lover pounded into him. A strangled cry left his lips when John took Sherlock’s cock in his hand and established a torturous rhythm matching the thrusts of his hips. Sherlock felt John inside him, filling him to the brim. He felt John’s hand on his leaking erection, the other hand tightly gripping Sherlock’s hip, but he also felt his lover’s gaze on his face.  

John Watson in throes of passion was magnificent; his parted lips, flushed cheeks, the straining muscles of his arms and abdomen; all of these things made Sherlock crazy with lust. He was aware that John could tell when he was close to reaching his orgasm. He mouthed ‘now’ to his lover before he let his head fall back to touch the upper cupboard as he came. Spurts of his own come landed on his chest and he heard John bark a curse before he delivered one more thrust and stilled, his head falling to Sherlock’s chest as he panted. 

Coming back to reality from the haze of orgasm, Sherlock's eyes landed on the monthly calendar on the wall.  

“It’s Easter soon.” He said to John’s short hair as his head rested on Sherlock’s pecs. 

“So? You hate celebrating...” John moaned as he detached himself from Sherlock without moving his head from its resting place. 

“I do hate celebrating with  _people_. But with you...” Sherlock’s voice dipped lower, his last words coming out in a purr. 

“Do I want to know?” 

“Hmm probably not yet. But you’ll find out soon enough.” Sherlock slid his hand to the hair on John’s nape and pulled to make his lover look at him. John’s eyes were full of post-coital bliss but a twinge of heat appeared in them the moment their eyes met. John’s mouth opened and Sherlock took it for a gentle, sensuous ride. At times like these, he found it hard to believe that John was his. Truly his, with a promise of marriage between them and a whole life together.  

_ _ _ 

 

John came home from the clinic to a sound of drilling echoing throughout their flat. He ran upstairs as fast as he could taking two steps at a time. Following the sounds, he found Sherlock in their upstairs bedroom standing on a stool with his arms up and a drill in his hands.  

It took John a moment to catch his breath, more due to the view than the sprint upstairs. Sherlock wore dark blue jeans and... nothing else. He was barefoot on the stool and his chest gleamed with sweat as he lowered the drill.   

“What-” John cleared his throat, his eyes still on Sherlock’s chest and arm muscles straining from holding the heavy tool. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Preparing for Easter.” Sherlock announced, gracefully stepping off the stool. 

“By drilling a hole in the ceiling?” John asked, giving Sherlock an incredulous stare. Sherlock smiled sheepishly as he packed the drill in a heavy black plastic case. 

“Yes.” 

“Care to elaborate?” 

“Nope.” This time the detective’s expression turned devilish and John felt heat in his abdomen. Sherlock’s sneaky ideas most often than not, were sexual in nature. 

_ _ _ 

 

“What do you mean it was held up in customs? I need it for Easter. I don’t care what you say. No, I can’t order another. I wanted this one specifically. It was custom made in Prague!” 

John was surprised hearing Sherlock talk on the phone. He preferred texting if it was possible but the content of the conversation interested John even more. He heard Sherlock mutter ‘Idiots’ and assumed that was the end of the conversation. 

“Is everything all right?” John asked entering the sitting room. 

“No.” The detective flopped rather dramatically on his chair before he looked at John. “We’re not getting my surprise package for Easter.” 

“Right.” John looked to the opened laptop at the desk. “Does it mean that you can now tell me what it was?” 

Sherlock waved his hand in the air indicating that he didn’t care anymore. 

“Still is. I’m sure once those idiots open it and see that it’s absolutely harmless, they will let it go. It just won’t arrive for Easter. Not this package at least.” 

John perked up at the last sentence but didn’t prod for the contents of the second package as he knew it would be fruitless. Instead, he approached the laptop to see the parcel tracking website. He frowned as there was no information that would tell him what was in it.  

“Next tab.” Sherlock clarified, getting up to go head towards the kitchen. 

“No. No no no, come back here.” John reached to grab Sherlock’s forearm to stop him from leaving. “Did you order a sex swing?” 

“Isn’t that what it says on the order?” Sherlock sassed back. John moved his chair back and tugged the arm he was holding. With astounding grace, Sherlock followed the suggestion and landed on John’s lap. One of his arms immediately went behind John’s neck. “But now we’d have to celebrate Easter without it.” 

“Don’t pout. We’ll still make good use of the days I have off for the holiday.” 

“I’m not pouting!” 

John tried not to grin and schooled his expression to an amused smile. “Of course, you’re not.” 

- 

John spent that evening thinking of a solution to the stuck-in-customs swing problem. Just before his mind drifted off to sleep, he came up with an idea. Smiling to himself, he wrapped his arm tighter around his fiancé, kissed the nape of his neck and let sleep pull him under.  

Over the next two weeks, he did research online, watched videos when Sherlock was not home and finally decided to attend a few classes available during the hours directly after his shifts, so that Sherlock wouldn’t be suspicious.  

They slept in on Easter Friday. The first day after a week of John waking up and leaving early to work, Sherlock had been adamant about staying in bed. That morning, John woke up on his back with Sherlock's form half-draped over him like a human blanket. The detective was always cold when he came to bed, but once his body heated, he was like a furnace, spreading his fire. His long legs were intertwined with John’s and his arm was over John’s chest.   

The most beautiful sight however, was when Sherlock lifted his head from John’s shoulder to look at him. The detective’s eyes were only half open, his cheeks were pink and hair tousled. John wanted to take a picture and make it into a canvas so he could see this image more often than just in the mornings.  

“Good morning, gorgeous.” John smiled at his fiancé and got a grunt in return as Sherlock burrowed his face back into John’s shoulder. “It’s Easter.” At that, Sherlock’s head popped up again and he smiled at John before jumping out of the bed and heading for the bathroom.  

The other box that Sherlock had ordered for the holiday celebration he had planned had arrived several days before. It must be something interesting, if Sherlock was so excited to get up and start on the day which they both knew would lead to bedroom antics.   

By the time Sherlock was out of the bathroom and dressed in a suit, John was almost done with their breakfast fry-up. They chatted about the recent case but John could tell Sherlock was giddy in his seat. John had insisted many times before that there would be no sexcapades before Sherlock had eaten something. It was perfectly clear then that Sherlock had plans as he was eating eagerly. John smiled to himself as the representation of his own plans was in a duffel bag under the bed.  

“Come on.” John extended his hand to his fiancé and felt instant heat at the look Sherlock gave him, accepting his hand.   

Sherlock dragged John to the bathroom and they both brushed their teeth, standing in the cramped space, both looking at the other in the mirror. John felt excitement bubble up in him and it was hard to brush teeth with a grin spreading on his face. In the mirror, he could see Sherlock’s eyes were crinkled at the corners as well. 

Sherlock winked. 

John sputtered the toothpaste into the sink as a fit of giggles overtook him.  

“Stop making me laugh,” he said in between rinses.  

“I’m doing no such thing.” Sherlock rinsed his mouth and his free hand travelled to John’s bum, squeezing one cheek through the cotton of the black boxer-briefs. John gave him a hooded stare and took his hand to steer them to the bedroom.  

 

From the wardrobe in the corner, Sherlock retrieved an Easter-themed medium-sized gift bag. The grin on Sherlock’s face suggested John would not necessarily like what was in the bag but he accepted it anyway. He reached inside, dug out the clear plastic box and put it quickly back. 

“No. Fuck no. No way, Sherlock.” He tried to give the bag back but sherlock linked his hands behind his back. “I’m not letting you make me into some playboy bunny for your entertainment!” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s Easter! You like celebrating traditions and there is something with a bunny  about it  so  you have to -”

“No.” John put the bag on the floor and backed away from it as if it were a bomb.

“If you’re planning to tie me up, then you can wear this.”

“How did you....” John frowned before it dawned on him. “The credit card payment!” Sherlock nodded. John had paid for the bondage classes and ordered a ton of hemp rope which of course, Sherlock would notice on the statements. John was sur e S herlock never  usually  checked them but he must have known John was up to something. There was no escaping the brilliant mind of Sherlock Holmes. 

John approached the bed and slid a black duffel bag from underneath it. He opened it to reveal heaps of rope and a smaller bag with pear-shaped climbing carabiners. 

“And yes, before you ask, they’re rated for climbing.”  a ssured Joh n. He knew  that if  he  could find out so much online, Sherlock must have done his own research.  

Sherlock looked at the ropes for one more moment, his hands automatically forming a  point  under his chin, before he looked at John.  

“Are you interested in us trying this?” John nodded at the bag at their feet. In lieu of a response, Sherlock took two steps to eliminate the distance between them and planted a hard kiss on John’s lips. “I assume that’s a ye-” Sherlock was kissing him again, but this time, his tongue breached the barrier of John’s lips and explored his mouth. John felt Sherlock’s hands at the back of his neck and his lower back, pulling him closer, and at the same time backing him towards the bed.  They landed on it, John on the bottom, Sherlock climbing on top of him, resuming the kiss that  had broken  on  their  impact with the bed.  

John tore at Sherlock’s clothes with impatience.  He needed to be  skin  to skin with his detective.

“Why did you dress when you knew-” he was interrupted with another kiss.

“You like me in  a  suit.”

“I like you out of one even more.” John grabbed the shirt in an attempt to tear it off his lover but Sherlock stilled his hands with his own. Sitting up, Sherlock was still straddling John when he placed  a  kiss on the knuckles of each of John’s hand s b efore placing them on his own hips.  

“If you do that every time John, I’ll run out of good shirts.” He announced, slipping out of the suit jacket. In the meantime, John rid himself of his t-shirt and laid back, waiting for a strip-tease. To John’s disappointment, Sherlock kept the shirt on but rolled his sleeves  up  before he leaned in for another kiss.  

Sherlock was not wasting any time as his hand reached to slide John’s boxer-briefs  off  and cup his growing erection. A moan left John’s lips and he arched into the touch, needing more. John felt his lover’s tongue encircle his earlobe, sending shivers along his spine. He then bit John’s neck just hard enough to make him squirm but not hard enough to hurt. The detective's expert touch made John’s cock hard quickly but that was when Sherlock’s hand moved to John’s balls. He fondled them for a moment before he brought his hand to his own lips.  

John’s breath hitched as Sherlock’s eyes locked on his, the fire in them making John burn for the man on top of him. Sherlock licked his finger and sucked it into his mouth. An act that should be ridiculous but was absolutely erotic when it  were  the perfect cupid’s-bow lips doing the deed. A pop sounded when the detective removed his finger and then slid it over John’s bottom lip. It was John’s time to suck the long digi t, s till slick with his lover’s saliva. Another finger joined it and  as Sherlock’s body rocked slightly, it created friction on his cock. John moaned around the fingers in his mouth.  When the fingers slid out of John’s mouth, he groaned loudly  again , arching to increase the pressure of his lover’s body on his. Sherlock was still braced on his left elbow, his face above John’s when the wet fingers of h is right hand started exploring under John’s sac. “ Ohhh  fuck, Sherlock...” John felt his body become pliant  u nder the touch. 

Sherlock teased  John’s  hole with a single finger, the languid movements making  the doctor  rock his hips to get closer. He needed more or he felt like he would explode from lust. He groaned in frustration dragging his nails along Sherlock's back. The detective’s body was so flush to his own that John could feel the soft fabric of Sherlock’s shirt on his cock trapped between their bodies. He thrashe d, b ut the weight of his lover kept him from getting the friction he craved. He could have pushed Sherlock off if he really wanted to, but in all honesty, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Have you changed your min d about the plug then?”  Sherlock's sultry growl was at John’s ear. 

“What? Oh...” John’s question turned into a moan when  the tip of  Sherlock ’s finger breached the ring of muscle.  “Yes...fuck Sherlock...yes.”

“Say it.” Sherlock licked the side of his neck  all the while moving his finger inside John’s body.

“Yes...”  John breathed.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want the plug.  Bloody hell,  Sherlock...I’ll get you for this.” John ground out with frustration.

“I'm counting on it.”  Sherlock whispered right above John’s lips. John captured the detective’s bottom lip between his teeth and Sherlock leaned even closer, sneaking his tongue out. John let go and welcomed the heated kiss that came, reciprocating the action, sliding his tongue over his lover’s. 

John’s hands travelled  to Sherlock’s hair, his fingers combing through the soft curls and staying there even as Sherlock’s head moved down John’s body. The nibbles on his stomach made John stifle a giggle, and yet  he sighed at the loss of Sherlock's finger from his body.  

Several seconds passed and John looked down to see Sherlock mumbling under his breath. He was cursing the clear plastic box that contained the plug, struggling to open it by force. John wiggled on the bed to reach for the scissors from the upper drawer of his bedside cabinet. 

“Here, try th ese .” He handed the scissors to the frustrated detective who proceeded to open the box with efficien cy  now. He held the small plug by the white fluffy tail and gave John a wicked grin.

The fact that Sherlock was still fully dressed, made John feel so much more exposed as he lay completely naked. The tight white shirt the detective wore begged to be ripped off, and the perfectly tailored trousers strained in front, trying to hold the detective’s erection. John wanted Sherlock naked in front of him but he also absolutely adored how gorgeous Sherlock looked dressed and aroused. He was flushed and wearing fancy clothes, crumpling his trousers when he knelt on the floor between John’s legs. It was a show of breaking the facade that Sherlock wore when they were in company of others. He was showing that underneath the suit, the snark and sass, he was a sensuous lover, taking care of his partner. 

Sherlock's tongue sneaked out to lick the tip of the steel tear-shaped end of the plug. Then Sherlock traced the wider part until he slid it along his lips, watching John’s reaction with  a  hooded gaze. John’s breathing picked up looking at the show, needing the tongue on his body, wanting the plug inside him. Sherlock knew it and from the same drawer, he retrieved a bottle of lube. Just a drop sufficed and the detective spread it with his finger over the steel before positioning it at John’s entrance. 

Sherlock worked the tip in slowly for which John cursed him, promising the sweetest revenge. He hissed in pleasure when the detective leaned to take John’s glans into his mouth. The array of sensations ran like an electric current through John’s body, filling him with tingling feeling of lust.

Sherlock sucked, his tongue swirling around the crown and John, gasping, gripped the sheets on both sides of his body.  Even though the plug was small, the sensation of the cool mixed with the slick sliding into him made him moan Sherlock’s name . When his body accepted the toy, Sherlock released John’s cock from his mouth and smiled as he fluffed John’s new tail with his palm. 

“You’re insane.” John chuckled seeing the smug expression on Sherlock’s face.

“You wouldn't have me any other way.” Sherlock’s smile was genuine and mischievous when he extended his hand to pull John up to his feet. “How does it feel?”

“Fucking weird, that’s how.” John tried to see his own bum in the mirror on the wardrobe’s door but he just glimpsed the white fur and shook his head at the silliness of it all. He was quickly distracted by the soft sound of Sherlock’s shirt sliding off his body. When he turned to face his lover, Sherlock was already shirtless and opening his trousers. His movements slowed down when he saw John was observing. Sherlock’s hooded stare landed on John, scanning his body from head to erection and back. In a movement that was insanely erotic, he licked his index finger and languidly slid it over his chin and down his long neck as he let his head fall back slightly, exposing it. The wet digit travelled to Sherlock’s nipple to pinch it. John felt his mouth ran dry and he licked his lips the moment his lover inhaled sharply at the self-inflicted pinch. 


	3. Chapter 3

John couldn’t wait a moment longer. He eliminated the space between them in two long strides and reached for Sherlock’s trousers. He knelt to kiss the muscles at his hips that created a V like an arrow pointing the way. His lips followed the trail of trimmed hairs and down, as he rid his detective of the lower layer of his clothing. John didn’t wait, didn’t tease, he just took. He took Sherlock’s fully-erect cock into his mouth and sucked, moaning at the taste. The tingling pain at his nape let him know that Sherlock’s hand was there, indicating he liked what John was doing and wanted more. John obliged, taking his lover deep into his throat as his hands caressed Sherlock’s thighs. John felt the tug on his nape and let his head be pulled away until Sherlock’s long length slid out of his mouth completely.  

Sherlock’s hands were on his cheeks, cupping his face; his lips were on John’s when the detective knelt in front of him. A quick kiss, just a brush that indicated this part of the play was over and it was time for the next stage. Sherlock sat back on his heels and placed his palms on his lap.  

“Where do you want me, John?” 

“Bed.” John's voice sounded low and guttural as his head went through the plans he had for Sherlock. 

The whole ordeal called for quite a lot of anatomical knowledge and the familiarity with the body of the person being subjected to the suspension. John was glad he had the knowledge of the muscles and the human body covered, before he ventured into the depths of rope bondage. He had decided and practiced for shibari-style partial suspension.  

- 

Sherlock lay on the bed, as instructed, and propped his head so he could watch what John was doing. From the duffel bag on the floor, he pulled out a large ring. Sherlock looked at it, deducing the material it was made of, not aluminium... 

“Titanium ring. Because titanium has the highest strength/weight ratio...”  

“Yes. It will serve us well.” John turned to him with a smile. Each and every person who had ever called John Watson ordinary was an absolute idiot, Sherlock thought. Because there was nothing remotely ordinary about the man with a ring in one hand and rope in the other. 

John took the three-step ladder that stood prepared in the corner and climbed it to secure the large ring to the hook in the ceiling using spiral half hitching. That way, he would be able to reach the ring and bind Sherlock to it while standing on the floor. The muscles of his arms strained as he tightened the rope and Sherlock wanted to go over and trace those muscles with his tongue. He stayed put, however, wanting for John to exercise his new ideas on him instead. John held onto the ring and pulled himself up, checking for the solidity of the knots. John Watson, fully nude and expertly preparing for suspending Sherlock was the hottest thing Sherlock had ever seen.  

“Sit.” John said simply as he approached Sherlock with a new length of rope form the bag. He tied it around Sherlock's chest first before he wound it to bind the detective’s arms behind his back. Sherlock felt the physical constraint. A pressure in his chest appeared that he recognized as slight panic rather than the squeeze of the rope. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Rationally, he found the restriction insanely arousing but once confined, an irrational fear came over him. With another deep inhale and slow exhale, it evaporated and he relaxed completely. 

“Are you okay?” John asked, concerned.  

Sherlock nodded, giving himself fully to the feeling of abandon. 

“Yes. Perfectly fine.” He whispered, opening his eyes to see John’s perturbed face smooth and turn back to a focused look.  

“Good. Safe word?” 

“Vatican Cameos.” 

“Okay. Lay down.” John helped to lower Sherlock on his front. He wrapped the rope around Sherlock’s ankle, making sure it wouldn't tighten on its own when pulled. He proceeded to bind it to the thigh of the same leg as far as it went. “Is that too tight?” 

“No, it’s fine.” Sherlock’s voice was breathy, he was enjoying this way more than he had anticipated. The ropes bit into his thigh, creating a singular feeling; as if John’s hands were gripping him tightly there. The impression extended to the binding of his hands behind his back as well. John was everywhere and it was titillating.  

John pulled another length of folded rope through the harness created at Sherlock’s back. Sherlock could hear the clicking of the carabiners as his fiancé worked on more knots and links. 

“Stand up.” John commanded, helping him slide to the end of the bed first. Sherlock placed his one free leg on the floor and John helped him heave his torso up. He would have felt like a ballerina had his hands been bound over his head and with that thought came several more. Sherlock hoped John acquired a taste for this play just as intensely as Sherlock seemed to be developing it, so they could practice it more often. 

John pulled the rope attached to Sherlock’s back through the ring he had attached to the ceiling before, and secured it tightly. Sherlock was bent at the waist, his upper body supported by the ropes, his left leg on the ground, and his right bent, bound and to the side. This position made him extremely open and he squirmed with anticipation of what John would do to him next. 

- 

John squatted to be face to face with his bound lover. 

“You’re gorgeous.” He moved a curl that had fallen on Sherlock’s forehead with a gentle touch. “And I want to make you scream my name as you hang like this. But first... can I take a picture of you? I will never show it-” 

“Of course.” 

“You don’t mind...” 

“No.” 

“You look like a piece of art displayed in a bondage museum. I want to preserve it.” An example of a perfect man, bound, helpless, yet somehow proud. Yes, Sherlock’s expression was full of lust but his chin was up; he was not ashamed of his submission, he was elated. His eyes looked almost as if he was on drugs and John felt his chest expand with the sense of pride that he could do that to Sherlock Holmes.  

John went over to the bedside table to take his phone and snapped several pictures of the magnificent man, partially suspended from the ceiling. At that moment, he wished he had a professional camera to capture the beauty of Sherlock, his erotic position, and the bindings. He was quite proud of his handiwork with the rope. It looked almost exactly like he hoped it would but better thanks to the subject wearing the hemp.  

John put the phone away and had to give his cock a tug as it stood erect when he was marvelling at the work of art in the middle of the room. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Sherlock asked with a smirk on his face. 

“What?” 

“The other item in the package” 

“Don’t.” John shook his head at the idea. 

“But it’s Easter.” The pleading way Sherlock said it without even attempting to hide his grin, made John’s resolve break. He sighed with resignation.  

“I’ll indulge you but only because you’re absolutely irresistible bound and hanging off the ceiling. How you still manage to boss me around is beyond me.” John approached the foot of the bed and took out the bunny ears from the bag. They were in a set with the plug, and somehow, he viewed them as far worse in this scenario than the plug itself. He made a show of putting the ears on his head while looking at Sherlock.  

John felt the plug in him as he moved, aware of it even more now that he wasn’t focused on securing the ropes properly. He approached Sherlock. The detective’s face was at a perfect level and John gave his cock one more tug before he offered it to his lover. Sherlock opened his mouth and accepted the gift eagerly, his body swaying slightly forward, but the rope made sure he wouldn't fall. John caressed Sherlock’s hair as his cock glided slowly into his lover’s mouth.  

Sherlock’s tongue teased the underside of John’s cock before he started sucking. John took hold of the rope leading to the ceiling and pushed it slightly so that it wasn’t him sliding into Sherlock’s mouth, but the other way around.   

The view combined with the sensations was almost too much. John pulled out, squeezed his cock under the glans and took several deep breaths. 

“Fuck, Sherlock...I almost...” He exhaled and released his cock, looking at his detective who was licking his lips. They would have to repeat this scenario soon because this session was going to last not nearly as long as John would like it to.   

John knelt to press a kiss to Sherlock’s wet lips.  

“Mmmm” was all Sherlock said and that was enough feedback for John to know that his lover was pleased so far. 

Instead of walking around Sherlock, John twirled him on the ropes that held him. Sherlock balanced perfectly on one leg and soon his arse was sticking out in John’s direction. John squeezed the perfect round buttocks before spreading them apart. When he slid the flat of his tongue along the crease, he smelled the faint scent of Sherlock’s perfumed soap. Sherlock gasped in response, his body trembling at the tease. In order to coax more lewd noises from his lover, John lapped at Sherlock’s entrance, delivering a needy French kiss. To John’s satisfaction, his fiancé shuddered and his muscles strained, making the rope creak.  

“John...” Sherlock's voice was low, full of arousal and need. John kissed one arse cheek then the other before he stood up to retrieve the lube that Sherlock used on him before. John stroked himself gently on his way to the bed and back, his cock needing the attention.  

“Are you okay?” He asked Sherlock whose eyes were burning with lust.  

“Yes, John. Do continue or I’ll swear I’ll...” Sherlock strained, his arms wiggling in the rope. His gaze focused on John’s cock, still being caressed lazily by John’s free hand.  

“With pleasure.” John smiled with wicked satisfaction and gave one more stroke for show, groaning, spreading his precome over his glans with his thumb.  

John knelt behind Sherlock again and poured a moderate amount of lube into the detective’s crease. He spread it with his fingertips, dipping one slightly, tantalizing his detective with the touch on the sensitive muscle of his opening. The sound of Sherlock’s moan was music to John’s ears.  

“Good. I want to hear how good it feels when I touch you, Sherlock. Tell me.” 

He knelt on the floor and pulled Sherlock’s cock back so that it peaked from between his legs. He licked the crease down to the balls and the length of his lover’s cock. He took the straining erection between his lips, tasting the precome, tasting Sherlock’s skin, tasting the need to orgasm.  

“Magnificent, John. I need more.” Sherlock growled the lusty demand. 

John sucked, and in the meantime drove his finger deeper inside his lover, spreading the lube before he added another digit. He moved his fingers in the same rhythm his mouth worked on Sherlock’s cock.  

Lewd noises were leaving Sherlock’s mouth and John felt the tension rising in his lover, felt the cock in his mouth growing even harder. He removed his fingers and released Sherlock’s cock before he stood up and positioned himself behind his detective. John poured lube on his cock and spread it before he pushed the tip into Sherlock's entrance.  

“Tight...Sherlock...you’re so tight. You’re so gorgeous like this. You feel so good.” John praised, gliding slowly in, deeper and deeper until he was fully seated. He stopped then, letting Sherlock’s body accustom itself to his considerable girth. Sherlock however, seemed to oppose that idea as he thrashed in his bindings to sway his hips towards John and away. 

“Move, John. Move!” Sherlock yelled, demanding.  

And John did. 

He slid almost all the way out of Sherlock’s body before he slammed back with force, making their bodies clap together loudly.  

“Yes. More!” The erudite detective in Sherlock seemed to dissipate and, in his stead, a sex-crazed demon appeared. John sympathised, so he pummelled into his lover with ferocity. Their bodies were making a sound not dissimilar to an audience clapping after a great performance. And indeed, John felt like he was delivering an act worth witnessing, at the same time being glad that he had Sherlock all to himself.  

John felt the plug inside him as he pounded into his lover. It intensified the feeling of being owned by Sherlock, having his toy inside him while still having physical power over the man.  

He held onto Sherlock’s hips as they swayed, impaling Sherlock over and over. John watched the place where his cock disappeared into his lover and felt his orgasm drawing closer. He leaned over, wrapped his left arm around Sherlock's waist and with his right hand reached over Sherlock’s bound leg and under, to take his erection. 

The noise that Sherlock made at the contact was sure to appear in John’s wildest dreams. 

He felt the plug in him even more prominently when his orgasm neared. John, to Sherlock’s clear dissatisfaction slowed down for a short moment, and reached to remove the plug. An extra spike of pleasure shot through him as the wide part of the toy moved past his ring of muscle. John picked up his ferocious pace quickly as he started to come.  

He screamed Sherlock's name. He screamed praise, he screamed how wonderful his lover was as John’s orgasm shot through his body, making his legs shake, his back tingle and his balls draw up. He could faintly hear his own name echoing through the room in a loud, guttural moan when Sherlock came soon after he had. John could feel Sherlock's muscles clench around him, milking the last drop of his seed from him. The detective’s body convulsed as he came, then surrendered to the ropes. 

John pulled out gently, sighing at the sight of his lover full of his come.  

“I can say that I was thoroughly fucked by an Easter bunny.” Sherlock chuckled quietly, the exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“I hope there will never be an occasion for you to say it.” John said, appalled, taking the bunny ears off and tossing them away. 

Sherlock gave a look of mock-offense before it was replaced by a smug smile.  

“For Easter Monday,” Sherlock started saying with mischief, though his voice remained hoarse. “I have purchased one that will be seated a lot deeper inside you. You’ll be pleased to know that it vibrates and I will have the remote.” He announced, his almond-shaped eyes squinted in mischief. 

“I swear, I will be surprised one day if you give me a gift that doesn’t go up my arse.” John chuckled as he unwound the ropes holding Sherlock up. 

When the bindings loosened, John had to hold Sherlock to help him lay on the bed. He worked on the other knots while listening to Sherlock’s even breathing. He lay on his front, completely quiet and motionless. He was not asleep but he clearly needed time to come back to his normal self.  

John brought a small tub of warm water and a towel. First, he cleaned Sherlock’s front, gently tracing the lines of his sweaty brow and cheeks with the cloth. Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed, his body in repose, waiting for John’s ministrations. John kissed Sherlock’s parted lips and moved his hand to wash his lover’s neck, collarbones and lower. Sherlock hissed when John started washing the minimal remnants of come off Sherlock’s oversensitive cock, but soon he relaxed with another contented sigh. 

John ran off quickly to replace the water and came back with a set of fresh cloths. He proceeded to wash Sherlock’s legs, then asked him to turn over. He repeated the process on Sherlock's back, paying extra attention to the places most affected by the rope. He traced the beautiful marks the hemp made on the pale flesh, sliding the cloth over them. His body moved of its own volition when he leaned to kiss the swirly, temporary flesh tattoos. After he washed between Sherlock’s arse cheeks, he put the bowl and cloths to the side. 

Sherlock rested his head on a pillow with his palms underneath it. He watched John with hooded, satisfied gaze. John took out massage oil from the bottom drawer of the nightstand and applied some to spread on both his palms. He started the massage from Sherlock’s upper trapezius muscles, making his lover groan, his body pliant under John’s touch. 

“Yes John...” Sherlock’s whisper was dreamy, as if he was halfway asleep already. 

John could feel the muscles let go of their tension under his palms. He proceeded down Sherlock’s back. He was not an expert on massage but he knew where the muscles that needed attention were and how to touch them. With gentle pressure he undid any potential damage that the rope might have done. 

Sherlock melted under his touch and John revelled in the idea of bringing pleasure to his partner, sexual and otherwise.  

“Enough. I need you John.” Sherlock moaned quietly.  

“You have me.”  _You’ll always have me._  

“I need you next to me.” 

John wiped his hands and lay next to his lover, whose gorgeous eyes were hazy but his lips were forming a small, satiated smile. John lay transfixed by the beauty of dishevelled Sherlock as the man put a palm on John’s face. The motion seemed to be the height of the movement the detective was capable of at that moment. 

“How did I get so lucky?” Sherlock asked, the honesty of that question creating a lump in John’s throat. 

“You worked hard on wooing me and it paid off.” He said lightly, but his heart knew there was a note of profound meaning in their exchange.  

“Idiot.” Sherlock said chuckling softly, as he pulled the sheet over them to their shoulders. 

“Dickhead.” John leaned to brush his lips over his fiancé’s.  

They exchanged the softest of kisses before Sherlock turned around, presenting his back to John. John wrapped his arm around his lover, pulling him as close as they could get, spooning the larger man to his front. Sherlock's hands were in front of his chest and John wrapped his hand over both of his lover’s wrists, feeling the strong pulse beating under his fingertips. They were so close, John would feel even the tiniest movement Sherlock would make and he felt the incredible joy at the knowledge that he would have the privilege to fall asleep that way for the rest of his days. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
